I wasn’t looking for pies; instead, they found me.
I was a stay-at-home mom of four kids living in Northwest Arkansas. As they were growing up, our lives were a happy blur of soccer practice and weekend games. But when my daughter was suddenly diagnosed with a heart condition, that blur came to a halt. Her dreams of playing college soccer were over and our family shared in her feelings of loss and uncertainty. The things that had once given us so much joy were now sad reminders of another life. Some time after her diagnosis, my daughter and I found ourselves spending a lazy afternoon couch surfing. We were flipping through the channels in a desperate search for something to watch when we landed on a cooking show. The host was hand-pitting cherries for a pie. My daughter asked if we could try making one ourselves, and, seeing no reason we couldn’t, I said yes. I didn’t realize it then, but that moment would go on to change my life. I had never even made a cherry pie before, let alone hand-pitting one. But as I went to gather our ingredients, I realized it was cherry season, and took it as a good sign. I never would have guessed how therapeutic making that pie would be for both of us. It gave us something new to focus on, and as we watched our creation bake in the oven, we shared a feeling that, somehow, everything was going to be okay. From that day forward, pie became a huge part of the healing process for our family.
This is the same Cherry Crumb Pie that we serve in the shop today. It is the pie that started it all.